Page 25 of From Notting Hill with Love…Actually
“Oh, do tell us, Ursula,” Oscar insisted. He was obviously enjoying Sean’s embarrassment as much as me.
Sean fired anI’ll get you for this laterlook at Ursula, but she happily ignored him.
“When Sean was just beginning to find out about the joys of the opposite sex,” Ursula said, looking gleefully around the table, “he used to try chatting up girls by using this line.” Ursula put on her best Sean Connery voice: “‘My name is Bond…’ and then the girl was supposed to say, ‘What, James Bond?’ and Sean would say, ‘No, I’m Sean, but you can be my Bond girl any time.’”
Everyone laughed. Sean drained the last of his glass of wine and lifted the bottle to pour himself some more.
“May I just point out that I was at school then,” he protested. “I was hardly going to use a Shakespeare sonnet!”
“Perhaps ‘You’ve left me feeling shaken and stirred’ would have gone down better with the girls?” I suggested, lifting my own glass and trying not to grin as I held it out for him to refill.
Sean glanced at me and narrowed his eyes. But then the corners of his supposedly angry mouth twitched in amusement as he finished pouring the wine, and I was relieved.
“So you are actually a Bond then?” I asked him.
Sean nodded. “Yeah, it’s Dad’s real surname. Lucky for him, eh? Not so lucky for us, though. I was named after Sean Connery, Dad’s favorite 007, and Ursula—”
“After Ursula Andress?” I guessed.
“Yep, you got it—Dad’s favorite Bond girl. Mum once told me Dad had really wanted to call me James. Thank the Lord she talked him out of that one!”
I smiled, and his eyes held mine for a moment.
“I think that’s quite enough of the Bond family history for now,” Ursula said, glancing between the two of us. “I bet we all wish we’d stood up for something we believe in at some point in our lives. Let’s have a think for you, Scarlett; we must be able to come up with something to help. You’ve already done a couple of bits fromNottingHillthanks to Oscar…so how aboutFourWeddingsandaFuneral, you must be able to find a few weddings to go to?”
“My best friend is getting married this month, but that’s the only one. I can’t just gatecrash three other weddings.”
“You could become a priest,” Lucian suggested helpfully. “But I guess you don’t have time for that,” he added, when everyone looked at him incredulously.
“Join the Women’s Institute,” Brooke suggested, waving her cigarette casually in the air.
“What?” Oscar asked impatiently. “And just how is that supposed to help?”
“My mum is in the WI, and they are always doing the flowers in our local church. At least it would get you inside.”
“Thanks, Brooke.” I smiled gratefully at her. “But I don’t think I’m the WI type really.”
Sean sniggered.
I glared at him across the table.
“Oh my God, I’ve got it!” Ursula exclaimed. “Sean, cousin Rachel’s wedding this weekend!”
“What?” Sean asked, looking confused.
“Rachel, Aunt Hilary and Uncle Jonathan’s daughter, she’s getting married this weekend, up near Dad.”
“Is she?”
“You had an invite, Sean. We both did. I can’t go because I’m exhibiting at an interior design fair and you said you just didn’t want to go so I sent aWithRegretcard from both of us.”
“Ah right—that was good of you.”
“Yes—wasn’t it?” Ursula shot Sean a look, which he again ignored. “Anyway, why don’t you take Scarlett this weekend instead—it could be one of her weddings!”
Sean and I nearly spat our wine at each other in our haste to reject Ursula’s idea. We both gabbled various polite excuses, all with the true meaning of, “Not bloody likely.”
But Ursula carried on unperturbed. “Oh, go on, it’ll be fine. You’ve not been up to see Dad in ages, Sean. And you, Scarlett, you’ve got to have a bit more pioneering spirit or you’ll never prove your family wrong, will you?”
